The Life of Love
by quicksilvergold
Summary: Hamlet's innermost thoughts concerning Ophelia are displayed in the form of a poem, spanning the entire timeline of the play. What he said was not always what he meant.


_Disclaimer: I do not own Hamlet or any other Shakespearean literature. I just like it._

 _PS: I couldn't figure out the formatting without it erasing itself every time I saved so the lines are basically just there to inform you where the next stanza is. Also, each new stanza represents the passing of time, and not every thought is necessarily canon. However, none of it goes against any canon either and Shakespeare isn't exactly around to tell us the inner thoughts of his creations._

 **The Life of Love**

Hamlet: " _I loved you once"_ , once I said, and would but it were true,

For a thousand deaths have I died, missing love withdrew.

Oh Ophelia, maiden fair, why dost thou tear my heart?

What we had was once so sure but now is tragic art.

My affections, sent and not, were they not enough?

Or were they, as your father said, simply just too much?

Ophelia dearest, my heart dost mourn a love I never owned;

Now I realize, much too late, the barrier of my throne.

* * *

It is far too much, this newest loss, and my mind cannot take:

A madness grows I cannot stop, and within it hate.

My life was rich, my family whole, before it fell apart;

A single death, a father mourned, an uncle's heartless part.

I just want peace! A moment's rest from unending pain.

Fairest maiden who owned my heart, can not you stop this rain?

Love is madness, and so is grief, but I would share with you;

Ophelia, dearest of my heart, was your rejection true?

Though I'm mad, I can live knowing there was no chance;

I love you so that you matter more than lust's tempting dance.

But Ophelia, darling heart, why do you not tell me so?

A simple word would cause me part and return me to my home.

There is a chasm grown between us, and I know not why;

I wish you'd tell me of your heart afore I surely die.

* * *

Oh, Ophelia, there is more at work than I could ever know;

All I have is one ghost's word and a lingering shadow.

This I'd tell you if I could, but you will not see my face.

Ophelia dear, can not you see the pain that won't erase?

I need you, love, but I must abstain from falling to your feet;

For you do not know, but I know well, of your father's dear deceit.

He agrees too much, asks questions deep, and always seems so close;

I am wary of his involvement in my uncle's scheming blows.

I fret to bring you pain, my dear, but something must be done;

There is a slimy killer near, and three are on the hunt.

The kingdom sees her own demise, floating on the horizon;

For king, prince and another lies waiting to inject the poison.

Ophelia dearest, it is not safe, and I would bid you run.

If it means you will be safe, please, become a nun.

I do not joke to tell you that, for more reason than one:

As a nun you'd have no child, and man'd be sooner done.

* * *

There is no apology, I could make, of appropriate sincerity.

I am only sorry for your pain and have no other sympathy.

Ophelia, heart, I've gone quite mad, and it has dulled the feelings.

I heard the truth from the killer's lips, but he was not guilty.

For how do I prove a tale so tall without calls of fraud?

So now I must take my own arms and send his soul to God.

But first the queen and her lying heart the ghost wanted to suffer,

Her incestuous vows, her secret affairs, her broken offers.

In my madness, she was quite frightened, and called loudly out;

And Ophelia, in response, there was a quite near shout.

I am sorry dearest, to take from you what I had lost,

But I thought it was the king and plunged unaware of cost.

I will not ask you forgive me, for I know the pain of grief.

On this ship where Uncle send's me, I'll quietly take my leave.

* * *

Ophelia, light of my heart! I return alive!

I had thought I might be dead, but here I have not died.

Dearest love, when the work is done, for you I will come;

A ship gives you time to think, and I have thought of love.

I have decided come justice be spent, I shall tell you all.

I have missed your touch far too much to leave you all alone.

My uncle's death is nearing, and then I shall confess

The things my beating heart rejoices to share at last.

But what is this, your brother? And a funeral march?

I had thought your father already buried deep within the trench.

Ophelia . . . Light of my life, where is your small form?

I know that with your brother you would surely come.

Darling Ophelia, drive me not to further heights of madness;

Surely you know I cannot take more of this form of sadness.

My dearest heart, spare me this grief and show your face!

Do not leave me all alone in my own disgrace.

My love, my home, where have you gone to?

Ophelia love, my sight grows blurry and I cannot find you.

* * *

Of all the suffering I have faced, this surely is the worst;

Tears slipping down my face, I am clearly cursed.

I shall fight Laertes' vengeful wounded heart;

And if I die? Well, it will be after I've done my part.

Ophelia dearest, my only purpose now is death:

To kill an Uncle, and then perhaps myself.

Light of my heart, how long has it been since we've been happy?

From the moment my father died it seems we'd lost our safety.

As I fight, with failing heart, I'm sure we were destined;

For each other, for our deaths, and mayhaps even legend.

Ophelia, darling, my costly revenge is finally found,

But my thoughts are of you, not the dying body on the ground.

Oh, Ophelia, will you love me now, once I have crossed?

My eyes cannot see, lungs cannot breathe, and my mind seems quite lost.

Death is so cold, my dear, and I feel very alone.

Are those your arms that welcome me? Ophelia, love, I am home.

 _Wasn't that lovely? I've been in love with Hamlet since I had to read it in English, and then we were assigned a wonderful thing called Creative Response, and I couldn't help myself. I am ridiculously proud of myself for writing a poem of such length._


End file.
